


A Voice in the Dark House

by Lieju



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Alternative Timeline, M/M, Thiefshipping, but like eventually, follows manga canon, i'll see how some stuff developes, little babby malik before horrible trauma, might end up borrowing things from the anime eventually, mostly anyway, other ships too not quite sure yet about some of them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-07 20:15:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14678676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lieju/pseuds/Lieju
Summary: Malik Ishtar, a terrified 9-year old, reaches into the darkness and something answers.





	1. Awaken! The Voice in the Darkness!

Malik turned in his bed again and did his best to stifle a sniffle. The day of his initiation ceremony was approaching. Much faster than he wanted. He was counting months now and any excitement he had once at least been able to fake had long ago turned into dread. He pulled the covers over his head, mouthing a silent prayer to Ra, and imagined invisible light imbuing the sheet, protecting him from the darkness. It helped little tonight so he stood up, bare feet meeting the cold stone floor where the rug ended.

Malik stood in the dark and once his eyes had adjusted a little started making his way to the small lamp. His room was almost never completely dark even though his father was insistent at least the torches should be extinguished or taken away for hours at a time to create an imitation of a night.

Or rather, that at times light was allowed to illuminate the tombs enough for Malik to pretend the darkness could be driven away.

Slowly, Malik lifted the lamp up, and suddenly as if out of nowhere, the thought that had been sleeping at the back of his skull awakened.

_I could just run away._

It was quickly buried again and he glanced around guiltily, as if the nameless Pharaoh himself could read his mind and punish him for his insolence. For a second Malik's imagination got away with him and he thought something in the shadows was moving. His mind conjured up images of a shadowy giant with the head of a crocodile standing in the darkness, watching him, stalking him, ready to leap at him and tear out his treacherous heart-

But nothing happened.

Malik's heart beat faster as he quietly sneaked towards the door. He stopped to listen. Nothing. At first almost aimlessly, he stepped out of his room. Was it just his imagination or did the darkness feel even more stifling than it usually did? Almost like the mere thought of an escape had summoned the suffocating shadows deep from the afterlife. There was no escape for him. So then... Malik walked forward, now with a goal in mind. Afraid to speak out loud he repeated his favourite spell in his mind. It was a prayer aimed at Ra and the sun far away in the sky he would never see. The lamps were a poor imitation of the sun but he liked to believe the tiny flame on his hands held some small fraction of the Winged Dragon's power. But just to be safe Malik included a short prayer to Osiris and Anubis. He usually preferred not to think about the dead god or death in general but it felt like the veil between this world and the spirit world was weaker than usual today and he could almost feel the darkness hungrily snapping at his shadow.

He stepped towards the ritual chamber door and froze. If he took the step in and was caught he couldn't just claim he had gone out for a pee. If someone else was awake...

If it was Rishid he wouldn't have to worry. Or even Ishizu.

Malik's blood ran cold at the thought of his father discovering him but even that didn't dissuade him tonight.

Malik ran his finger on the carvings on the wall and pressed a glyph until he heard a soft click. He would only be officially told how to open the door at his initiation when he'd receive the revelation of the gods, but he had paid attention when his father had done this. Once, when he had been younger he had looked forward to this...

Malik opened the door just enough to slip inside, ignorant of the crude alert system that would wake everyone up. Luckily for him he only opened the door slightly, not enough to trigger it, and had no idea just how close he had come to getting caught.

Malik had been to this room before during the ceremonies where his father would lead the family in prayer. He stopped to think and it occurred to him the idea of just running away hadn't come out of nowhere.

The first time Malik had disobeyed his father had been when he had been 6. That was when he had realized Rishid was never invited to these ceremonies. Why didn't he get to walk up to the golden items and repeat the promise to serve the Pharaoh? So Malik had repeated the vow to Rishid because it had been so unfair he'd be left out and Malik had been sure the Pharaoh would love to have someone like Rishid protecting his secrets.

His father had found out.

_What if Rishid will get in trouble again because of me?_

Malik wondered if there were prayers to shield you from your kin.

He breathed in deep, spared a passing prayer to Seth, and took in the room.

It was a small almost bare room with a statue of Anubis watching over the altar. That statue had scared him as a small child. He glanced at its lifeless eyes. If he was perfectly honest he was still a bit scared of it. A bit. But once he was the real successor to his father he wouldn't be. His father wasn't afraid of the gods.

_Then again, he has always been faithful to them. I'm sure Father never thought of running away,_ a small voice at the back of his mind reminded him.

Trying to ignore it, Malik kept looking at the room, pretending he was seeing it for the first time. With new eyes. New maturity.

There on the stone slab under the dead gaze of Anubis were the two golden items his family had sworn to protect. No, the two items that his family _existed_ for.

Maybe it wouldn't be that bad... Someone had to do it, right? It was _important._

_He_ was important.

Malik reached a hand towards the rod that had caught his attention. His tiny hand hovered over it as he imagined the Pharaoh wielding it. The Pharaoh who could command the gods. Malik bet he could summon Ra to the tomb and fill these rooms with everlasting heavenly light.

Forever banishing the darkness.

_I wonder if it feels the same as the gold on the bracelets I wear for ceremonies?_

Somehow he didn't think so. The metal reflecting the light seemed somehow alive.

Transfixed, Malik imagined what it would feel like wrapping his fingers around it and lifting it. Slowly he brought his hand down to touch the gold. As soon as he made contact a shock ran through his body and he opened his mouth in a scream. With effort he clamped it shut again, letting out only a pained gasp.

_Please, don't-_ Afraid to scream out loud he instinctively reached out mentally, wordlessly letting all of his anguish into the darkness.

_I didn't mean to!_

He pleaded for help. For anyone to-

Deep within the darkness something answered his call. A dark presence reached out to him, coiling around his mind like a snake. Malik closed his mouth, feeling the pain disappear with his other senses as he lost contact with the outside world. Unconsciously, his tiny fingers curled around the rod, desperate for any physical sensation. For anything else apart from the abyss around him.

**Confusion.**

Malik realized that feeling hadn't come from himself, but from whatever the thing lurking around him was.

_H-hello?_ Malik tried thinking at it.

_**Curiosity** _ , now, as the thing shifted in his mind like a serpent.

Malik took a breath, and looked around the dimly lit chamber he was able to see around him once more. He only now realized he was grasping the millennium rod close to his chest. But the pain was gone now. Malik stared into the rod where only his own distorted reflection greeted him.

_Hello_ , he tried again, this time with more confidence. He was fairly certain whatever it was was coming from the rod itself.

_You are not the one I have been waiting for. What- Where are you..._ Words echoed in Malik's very soul.

Malik had a feeling the thing was grasping at the darkness, trying to reach him.

_My name is Malik Ishtar. I am the Tomb Guardian tasked with protecting these items._

_Oh?_ Malik couldn't exactly hear the voice as much as feel it inside him but it felt confused.  _Not here. You are not... The one who will-_

Malik asked:  _Are you the Pharaoh?_

The darkness around him went cold. _WHAT?FUCK NO._

_S-sorry. I just thought, since you are in his rod-_

Although now that Malik thought of it, it was feeling more like whatever this voice was coming from was somewhere far away.

 _Who are you, then?_ Malik demanded to know, a bit more confident now he was almost certain the person he was talking to wasn't anywhere near him.

_**Uncertainty** ,_ again.

_It has been a long time. My name..._

Maybe it had no name?

But after a pause the person spoke again.

_Bakura._

 


	2. Trust the Darkness? The Secret of the Millennium Rod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of Sinuhe is an actual famous work of Egyptian literature from Pharaonic times. The translation I used here is this one:  
> http://www.reshafim.org.il/ad/egypt/texts/sinuhe.htm  
> An another translation:  
> http://jennycarrington.tripod.com/JJSinuhe/

Malik closed the book. ”I'm done, Rishid.”

Rishid looked up from his work of swiping the floor. ”Already, Master Malik?”

”Yup!”

Malik skipped to the door before Rishid could protest. ”I'll stretch my legs for a bit!”

He slipped away to the ceremonial chamber the way that had become so familiar to him recently. He lifted the rod from its resting place and brought it to his forehead as he slipped into the shadows next to the statue in his usual spot.

 _Bakura,_ Malik mentally called out.

The presence somewhere stirred in response.

 _I managed to recite all of the story of Sinuhe to Father yesterday_ , Malik told him. _Ishizu promised the next time she goes to get us food she'll bring me fresh fruit._

 _Why do you need to know it by heart anyway?_ Bakura asked. _You can read, can't you?_

_Yes, but... It's important._

Bakura scoffed. _Whatever you say._

 _Fine, be like that. I guess I don't have to tell you how it ends then._ Malik smirked. _Will_ _Senusret really_ _forgive Sinuhe? Will he stay with the Renetu? I guess you don't care to knoooow?_

Malik could feel the person at the other end grumble. _It's not like I have much to do_.

Malik knew full well he had been interested. It had been a part of Malik's motivation. Every night he had sneaked to talk to Bakura to tell him the part of the story he had been studying. Bakura had definitely been interested in the old story about the life of a palace official. Malik had trouble really recognizing some of the feelings he could feel through their link though. His new friend was certainly a puzzle.

 _It's just a story anyway,_ Malik said. _Father said it's different from the scrolls of the Nameless Pharaoh, and the stuff-_

He stopped before finishing the thought but he knew Bakura got his meaning.

This was a story of the past. The things carved on his father's back were of the future.

The things that would be carved on his back soon enough-

 _Sinuhe runs away doesn't he?_ Bakura said.

Malik tensed. _What?_

 _He runs away and leaves the Pharaoh to fend for himself. He is right to. Why should he stay? Instead he escapes to foreign lands and forms his own kingdom_.

 _What are you saying?_ Malik asked.

Bakura laughed. _Nothing, nothing. It's an interesting story is all. Recite me again the part where he slays all of his enemies and then spoils their cattle and desecrates their tombs._

 _I don't think that last part happened,_ Malik noted.

_Really? He should have._

Malik concentrated, eager to show off his memory:

 _Every country against which I marched, when I made my assault it was driven from its pastures and wells. I spoiled its cattle, I made captive its inhabitants, I took away their food, I slew people in it; by my strong arm, by my bow, by my movements and by my excellent counsels,_ Malik recounted.

Bakura snorted. _Also 'I dug up the corpses of their fathers and shat in their open graves.'_

 _It doesn't say that!_ Malik protested. He let out a laugh before catching himself. He glanced around guiltily.

 _Well it should,_ Bakura said. _Add that in. It will be better._

 _Bakura..._ Malik hesitated. _Have you ever gone outside?_

By now Malik could feel he was talking to a person holding one of the other Millennium items but Bakura had been slim with the details. Still, Malik could guess many things and had some kind of an image of the person he was talking to.

 _Not... For some time._ Bakura answered. _I don't even remember what it feels like. There's some fucker, I can sense someone but he never even talks to me..._

Malik nodded to himself. Bakura seemed to know even less than he did about the outside world.

 _It's your turn,_ Malik told him.

 _My turn to what?_ Bakura asked. Malik wasn't sure how he sensed it but there was definitely a suspicious tone accompanying that statement.

 _To tell a story. Just anything._ Malik shrugged. _Don't you have to study?_

_I don't tell stories._

_Then tell me just anything. Please?_

_Well, once there was a boy who was very hungry. So hungry it hurt. Then he found an onion and ate it._

Malik waited for a while but there was no continuation. _That's it?_

_What did you expect? I don't remember any stories, my memory is not... It's not the best._

_Do you remember the sun?_ Malik asked.

_I do. It was painful, and ruthless. Evil._

_Why would the sun be evil?_

_Sun burns at your skin, claws at you like a hungry beast. Dries up your throat. Exposes you to those who seek to open your belly with their knives. It's much better to hide in the darkness,_ Bakura told him _. Darkness protects you. Hides you._

Malik shuddered. _Well I don't want to be hidden anymore,_ he told Bakura. He sat a bit straighter and lifted the rod, imagining people around him. An image of him surrounded by light filled his mind. He knew the sun was like the flame of the candle but much larger and warmer. He imagined being embraced by the light, all eyes on him as he commanded the sun...

_Tell me, Malik, are you afraid of the dark?_

_No. Just cautious. There are nasty things in the dark._

_You are right about that._

Laughter echoed in Malik's mind.

* * *

 

”Father, may I speak with you?”

Malik's father looked up from his work. ”Shouldn't you be studying?”

”This is about my duty as a tomb-keeper, Father.”

He set down the book. One of the books only he was allowed to touch, Malik couldn't help noticing. ”Go on.”

Malik had practiced this by himself for days but now it felt like the words were sticking to his throat. He looked at the statue of Horus behind his father and pretended he was speaking to it. ”I want to know more about the other parts of our clan.”

”What?”

Malik moved his gaze and stared at his father's forehead, nervous to make eye-contact. ”There are seven Millennium items. I know there was once just one clan of Tomb-keepers but they split up... I think I should know more about the others.”

”It is not important to your duty.”

”I think it is, Father! Ah, sorry. I'm just thinking, that maybe we should try to... Talk to them-”

”Don't be foolish. How would we even accomplish that?”

”But they might have found different ways to do things!”

His reasoning had felt so solid when he had gone through it in his mind. ”Maybe there are tomb-keepers who go out and live in the light and still can be real tomb-keepers and-”

Not that Bakura's clan apparently had chosen that road. But maybe-

”Enough!” his father snapped.

”I apologize.”

”Who is it?” His father's tone was suddenly cold.

”What?”

”Who is the one that's been filling your head with these ideas?”

Malik tensed. ”No one!”

”It was Rishid, wasn't it?”

”No, I was just preparing myself for the role I'll carry!”

Malik bit his lip trying to think of a lie. Trying to think of a someone to take the blame for this.

”It was Sinuhe.”

”Sinuhe?”

Malik nodded. ”He leaves to travel to different countries and then comes back. The Pharaoh allows him to come back and be buried in his homeland. 'Come thou to Egypt, that thou mayst see the Residence where thou didst grow, that thou mayst kiss the earth at the Great Portals and have thy lot among the Companions.'”

He had thought his Father had been proud of his hard work memorizing his texts. Didn't that show how dedicated he was?

“That's where I got the idea. I'm sure- I mean I thought maybe the Nameless Pharaoh would also understand and show mercy and allow some people to go out and learn-”

”Malik.”

Malik flinched as his father set his hand on his shoulder. But his touch was gentle as he looked his son in the eye.

”You are far too important to go outside. You shouldn't even think of whether the Pharaoh would forgive you for your crimes. In my heart I have faith in you, my son, to never commit a transgression like this. I would expect something like this from Rishid, not you.”

Malik wanted to tell him that was wrong, that Rishid was far more faithful than that. But maybe he was right. And maybe because Rishid got to go outside sometimes he was happy with his life.

Rishid who was so lucky.

Malik nodded.

”Good. Soon enough, when it's your initiation, you will become the true heir to the tomb-keepers and carry the destiny of our clan on your back. It will take away all of your doubts.”

Malik nodded wordlessly again.

* * *

 

 

 _Is that any kind of life you want?_ Bakura asked.

 _Maybe once I'm the head of my clan I can go find your family and we can unite? I know there used to be more of us, once._ Malik said. He had sometimes adventured to the empty parts of the underground complex. Not too far into the labyrinthine ancient ruins and temples but he knew there were other parts similar to where his family lived. There had been a whole village down there once.

_My... family?_

Malik wasn't sure what the feeling washing over him was.

_I'm alone, Malik._

_Then I'll come and get you, and you can live here with me!_ Malik said. He had never felt this sort of cold despair from the other boy.

 _Come and get me?_ Bakura chuckled. _Here I just imagined you riding into battle_. _You would actually have to go outside for any heroics. Oh, or just send your siblings on a quest to plunder a tomb or two? Shall we make you a tomb robber yet?_

 _Well you get here, then!_ Malik snapped. _At least I have Rishid, and Ishizu, and- and Father. What will happen to your Millennium item when you die?_

A silence fell in Malik's mind and for a second he wondered if Bakura had retreated from their link.

 _I'm not guarding this ring for the Pharaoh, just so we're clear,_ Bakura hissed _. It's mine._

_Ah-_

_And haven't you claimed the rod for yourself?_ Bakura pointed out _. You're not supposed to use it, are you?_

 _I'm not!_ Malik protested. _I'm just using it to talk to you... I'm not really_ use _-using it..._

Malik could feel the presence at the other end growing oddly restless again.

_I don't know what it does... Malik, what can you do?_

_Do? I can talk to you._

_Apart from that,_ Bakura said. _What are you doing with it?_

_Doing with it? You mean how I'm using it?_

Malik focused.

_I think I'm sort of... putting my reflection to it and the reflection goes away? To you._

The way he had been using it had been focusing on his reflection on the gold and imagining that flying away where he couldn't physically go. Maybe it was something like his Ka... Malik wondered if any of his father's books would hold the answer.

 _It can do more than that,_ Bakura said. _Much more. I think... Fuck, I don't remember-_

For a second Malik could feel Bakura's panic, until he got a hold of himself.

_Can you focus on, let's say Rishid. He's probably the safest one to try things out on. Can you focus on him and talk to him through the rod? Like you're doing right now with me._

Malik stared into the rod, and focused. He imagined his brother. But nothing happened.

_It's not working._

_Well go to him then._

_What?_

_You got to figure out how to use this thing. Listen, Malik, you have already claimed the rod. It has acknowledged you as its master. It's fine._

Malik huddled in the nook, hugging the rod. _I guess..._

He fiddled with the rod, and could feel something shift under his fingers. He froze. Had he broken it?

Malik lifted the rod up closer to the torch. It seemed part of the rod had come loose...

He pulled and the part slid off, revealing a sharp dagger.

 _What is it?_ Bakura asked, curious at the emotions he could feel through their link. _Show me_.

Malik focused on what he saw through his eyes and sent the image to Bakura.

He whistled. _A dagger? I should have guessed. Of course they would have something like that- Of course it wouldn't be enough it has fucking magic powers got to add other ways to kill and maim._

Malik was about to ask who 'they' were when he could hear the door opening.

Someone stepped into the chamber.

_Malik? What's wrong?_

Malik tried to make himself as small as possible.

He let out his breaths slowly, hoping to be as quiet as possible as he heard the other person moving in the dimly lit room.

_Malik? You can think, it won't make a sound._

Afraid to even vocalize his thoughts Malik let out a wave of fear into the rod.

 _Just be still, idiot. You'll be fine. Just breathe quietly, slip into the shadows, you'll be fine_.

Malik's fingers tightened around the rod as the other person coughed and his worst fears were confirmed. It was Father.

_What are you afraid of, Malik? You have the rod. You have nothing to fear. There is nothing he can do to hurt you._

_**Panic.** _

Bakura growled. _Fine, fine. Listen, Malik. Trust the darkness._

Malik wanted to, for the first time in his life. He leaned on the statue and hoped the shadows were enough to conceal him. But he still had the rod. His father would notice it was missing from the stone slab.

But maybe...

At first Malik thought the idea had come from Bakura, but not quite. It felt like the rod was showing him what it could do.

His father moved closer. He had a perfect view of the boy sitting next to the statue now. Malik locked eyes with him.

And his father kept going, not seeing him.

Malik thought of the image of the rod laying on the stone. The rod, being where it was supposed to be. He sent the image to his father's mind.

His father stepped to the stone table.

And lifted his hands in prayer, not noticing anything out of the ordinary.

 _Oh?_ Bakura sounded curious. _It can do that?_

Malik wondered if he could walk right up to his father, look him in the eye and tell him no one was there.

Bakura caught that thought. _Why don't you try it?_

_No!_

_Pfft, you'd be fine._

But he let it go, and eventually the older Ishtar left. Malik stood up to return the rod.

 _Malik._ There was something odd about Bakura's tone.

 _Why are you putting it back?_ he demanded to know.

 _I always do.._.

Malik felt a twinge of fear through their link. Fear? For what?

_It will be fine, Malik. You have the right to the rod, don't let your father keep it from you! You will come back, right?_

Oh.

 _Of course I will,_ Malik promised.

 

 

 


End file.
